Unspoken
by Lady Aoi
Summary: Four Turks, four vignettes about a certain Turk love triangle. Pairings: (vaguely) Rude/Elena and Tseng/Elena. So rated for language, angst.
1. Rude: More Than Words

More than Words

A FF7 Fan Fic

By

Lady Aoi

Summary: Rude's thoughts as he pines for a certain co-worker... 

Paring: Vaguely Elena/Rude

Rating: PG for a little language, angst

Genre: Romance

Spoilers: Not really.

Disclaimer: I don't own Rude, Reno, Tseng or Elena… Square does. I don't own Square either. There are many things I don't own. A working car is one of them.

Lady Aoi's Notes: Wow, a one shot! And a short one! How unusual for me. I'm now playing Rude in a Final Fantasy Seven RPG, so I'm writing this partially to get a better grasp for his character. I think I understand Elena a lot better than I do him O.o;. Comments and suggestions are always appreciated.

~*~

      I'm not a big fan of words. Even when I'm just sitting here thinking them to myself. I guess it's because they don't really mean a damn thing in the end. Someone says, 'See ya at the bar at eight sharp, bro'. They never show up. Someone says, 'You're a valuable member of this team'. They fire you the next day. Sometimes someone even says 'you mean everything to me'. Or even worse; 'I love you'. And then all hell breaks loose.

        Maybe you'd know what I'm talking about. You tried so hard to do everything right when you got promoted. Hell, you're still out there busting your ass every morning following Rufus' orders to a T while Tseng, Reno and me are still in bed. I know Reno rags on you and Tseng can be harsh sometimes, but they don't mean anything by it. They just don't understand how clued in you really are. See, you know that just standing there and shooting your mouth off about all the crap you're planning on doing doesn't mean jack unless you actually get off your ass and do it. That's more than I can say for Reno. If I had a gil for every word that guy spouts off, I could buy you something real nice. Like that broach you liked in Wutai. Instead, I only have words. Meaningless words that don't do anything but make me hurt like hell.

      I wonder if that's why I found you in that playground twelve years ago. You know the one. It has a merry-go-round and a slippery slide that looks like an Elephant. I think it's in Sector Six. I walked past it every day on my way home from my paper rout and didn't think anything of it. I had to help Dad make ends meet, and I didn't have time to mess around on playgrounds. But the day we met, I remember walking by and wondering why the place seemed so unusually… quiet. Normally there'd be some kid there playing in the sandbox, or maybe you'd hear a growl from a car sometimes. But today nothing moved. And I had to investigate.

      It wasn't long before I just… I just got this feeling that I should climb up into the slide. And sure enough, there you were. A little blonde girl in a stained dress. You were huddled up against the wall holding a ratty stuffed mog. You were too scared to cry. You didn't tell me that. I just knew it. The look in your eyes and the bruises on your arm told me. But you weren't scared when I came over to you. Maybe it was because I wasn't much taller than you, so you knew I wouldn't hit you with enough force to hurt, like those grown-ups did. I think it was because you just knew, too. That some grown up had hit me recently; that I'd gone to bed hungry last night; that some kid had just stolen half my wages. Whatever. The thing is, you just let me hug you and you hugged back. And then you moved away, smiled and said "My name is Elena. Elena Marshall. Who're you?"

      "Rude," I said.

      "That's a weird name," you said. Then you wrinkled up your nose all cute like that. You still thought it was weird when I said that wasn't my real name. Just some name my family called me because I wouldn't answer when they yelled. "Hey, Rude! You speak when you're spoken to, got it?!" "Hey, Rude! You better answer me!" They didn't get that maybe some people didn't like being yelled at like a dog that just pissed on the floor. But you didn't yell at me for being weird. You just accepted me. And then we left the playground and stole some food from that restaurant in Wall Market. Just like we'd been best friends forever. It was fine that you talked a lot. You didn't demand. Not my opinion, not my submission… just my ears. And I didn't mind listening. Not about how your father threw cooking oil on your step mom last night or about how he almost broke your arm when you tried to fight him off. I didn't say it at the time, but that was really brave of you. Next time Reno bitches at you to "toughen up, you're a Turk now" maybe I should tell him you put your old man in the ICU. Nah. He wouldn't get it.

       But Reno does get some things. I think he knows, or at least suspects. The other day at Gongaga you were right behind us when he asked me to tell him who I liked. He had that look in his eyes, too. The one he gets right before he makes someone's life hell. That's why, when he asked, I just said the first person's name I could think of. Tifa. Sure she's cute but she's nothing like you. You're brave, and talented, and cute, and smart and funny as all hell. Like that play you wrote and performed with your stuffed mog. I never laughed so hard. Even if you were only eleven. I know I don't laugh much, even when I'm drunk off my ass. But every time you crack one of those corny jokes or do that impression of Hojo where you do that walk... hell, 'Lena, I'm all sunshine inside.

       God… if I said that to Reno he'd laugh his ass off from here all the way back to HQ. You'd probably laugh, too. It's stupid, really. Because you didn't lie to us at Gongaga. You just told it like it was: me and Reno are your buddies, and you like Tseng. Shit, I knew that. I *knew* that! But hell, why'd I say Tifa? 

       That night, I thought how easy it would be to kill Tseng. Just pick up a rock, smash his head in and hide the body in the ruins. I'm a Turk. I coulda pulled it off easy. Too easy. I could have broke your heart in half just like that. 

       I guess the reason I don't tell you is just that. Words really don't mean anything, but they mess things up. They mess people up. And if I said anything with you feeling like you do for Tseng... maybe you'd forgive me someday. But you wouldn't forget it. You just don't forget it when your buddy says those three shitty little words. So, then what? You'd sit between Reno and Tseng when we go to bars? You'd stop laughing and talking whenever I walk into the room? Shit like this happens when people talk, 'Lena. And besides, what the hell would my telling you fix? It won't make you happy and it won't change the way you feel. And god, I just… you had a hell of a life growing up. A hell of a time getting into the Turks, too. If there's anyone that deserves a happy future it's you, 'Lena. Tseng's a bit cold sometimes but he's a good guy. And when he pulls his head out of his ass and sees what a catch you are, he'll come around. He may not be able to deal with his feelings sometimes, but he's not stupid. 

      But sometimes I just wish…

      I just wish that all your wishes come true. And that you'll invite me to the wedding. Reno'll probably get you something stupid like edible underwear, so I'll have to balance him out. Maybe by then I'll have enough money to get you something as special as you are. I just hope someday when you show that broach to your kids that you tell them it was a present from Uncle Rude.

      Now, those words would really mean something to me.


	2. Reno: Leaving Well Enough

Leaving Well Enough

A FFVII Fan Fiction

By

Lady Aoi

Summary: Reno's thoughts about a certain Turk love triangle

Rating: PG-13 for language (this is Reno after all)

Pairings: Vaguely Rude/Elena and Elena/Tseng

Disclaimer: Rude, Elena, Tseng and Reno are wonderful. But like many wonderful things in this day and age (Hostess li'l angels, for example), they do not belong to me. They all belong to Square Soft. And I don't own Square Soft at the moment, either. Mhh… Square Soft…

Lady Aoi's Notes: The Reno muse got the urge for a little story today. I didn't have the urge to refuse. Oh yeah. This might make more sense if you read "More Than Words" first. But it can stand on its own, too. I hope you enjoy the fiction. I'm still pretty new to writing for _Final Fantasy 7, so all comments and suggestions are very welcome._

~*~

            Huh. 

You're a real wing nut, Rude. A real wing nut.  Honest to god! I love ya, buddy, but hell if I know what's up with you half the time. Most of the time. Like that time you and me were at Costa del Sol and laid on the beach for an hour just breathing through one nostril at a time. That was weird. Or that day you just up and shaved all your hair off. Bing. Just like that. Hair today gone tomorrow. That was weird, too. And don't even get me started about that painting you did of those weird-ass watches that were all bent out of shape. Yeah, you guessed it. Weird. Weird. Weird.

But dammit, Rude. That shit you pulled at Gongaga last week wasn't weird. It was just plain stupid! God, buddy! 'Lena was right behind you, and what did ya do? You choked, that's what. You friggin' choked. I mean, sure, I got blue balls for that AVALANCHE gal too. But still! Tifa? Tifa?! Yeah, right. You wanna know something, buddy? You're the suckiest liar I ever met. Even worse than 'Lena, and that's saying a lot. At least she's funny when she gets caught with her pants down, but you're just damn pathetic! Heh. Pants down. Bet you'd love to see that kind of thing, huh? Tifa!

Seriously, pal. You wanna know how I really saw through that whole horseshit 'confession' of yours? I'll spell it out. YOU DON'T CARE A RAT'S ASS FOR TIFA LOCKHEART!!! And you know why? Because you don't even remember what the hell she looks like! And don't deny it. I caught you red-handed. After you and me fought those AVALANCHE wing nuts off, I asked you what you thought of Tifa. She was with 'em, you know. Jiggling away every time she cast Fire 2. Yeeeowwwwch! And you know what you did, you lyin' bastard? You turned right around and said: "I dunno. I was too busy fighting." HA. HA. HAAAAA! Joke's on you, wing nut. 'Cause any guy that wasn't either blind or gay coulda been falling off a cliff and still had his eyes glued to those jugs like flies to honey. And you're not blind, and I know you ain't gay. So the only other explanation is that you had someone else's jugs on your brain.

By the way, they're nice enough jugs. But I digress. And besides, you'd beat my ass from here to Midgar if you knew I was looking at your crush. 

I ain't lookin' at her, though. Not like that. 'Lena's my buddy, Rude. That's all. Just my buddy like you're my buddy. She's sweet and cute and all, but she's not exactly my type, ya know? She's a little too clueless and besides, I prefer brunettes. Like that Aeris. Whooo-yah! 

I'm done now…

But Rude, come the hell on! What do you think just sitting here with your finger up your ass is gonna accomplish, huh?! Hey. It's not like she doesn't know. It's not like we all don't know. Yeah, you may have a kick ass poker face, but it don't work around pretty girls. That's another way I figured you were lying. I see the way you look at 'Lena all the time. Your cheeks just start twitching and then this goofy-ass little grin appears, like you just got a nice surprise right between the thighs. It's subtle, sure. But damn! I know you, man! And you sure as hell don't give Tifa looks like that! But yeah. She knows. Tseng'd know too, if he wasn't too busy doing actual work. And if he didn't have a stick shoved permanently up his corn hole, that is. So since everyone knows how you feel, here's the 50,000 Gil question:

Ahem.

WHY THE HELL DON'T YOU SAY SOMETHING, YOU IDIOT?!?

Come on! It's not like 'Lena would hate you or disown you or whatever. Hell, she'd be flattered! Who knows, she might even say she liked you back! Oh yeah, she goes on and on about Tseng all the time but… please. Her and Tseng?! 'Scuse me while I go puke up a lung.

Mr. Cardboard Cut-Out don't have a thing on you, wing nut! Sure a lot of chicks think he's hot, but so what?! He's bor-ing and probably as asexual as Palmer! I mean, can you imagine him going to bed with anything but his mission reports? The only interest he's got in 'Lena is whether or not she's gonna blab another secret or get herself killed. And besides. Can you really see her being happy with a guy like that? Hell, at least you listen when she babbles on and on or when she does that stupid Hojo impression for the ninety-bajillionth time (what the hell's up with that, anyway?!). You better bet Tseng ain't even aware she's in the room. No. He's too busy thinking about whatever. His work probably. Or maybe Aeris.

Yeah, stick-up-the-ass has a thing for Aeris. And poor 'Lena don't know she ain't even second best. Or third, or fourth or sixteenth for that matter. You really want that for her, Wing Nut? You wanna just leave well enough alone and sit here with your dick in your hand while she pines away for a guy who doesn't think of her as anything but a nuisance on a good day?! You really that cruel or stupid or…. Or are you scared, Wing Nut? Huh? Scared  you might actually have to open your mouth and say those three shitty little words to her? Scared of what that'll change, and maybe the shit it won't change? 

Yeah. It's a scary world, ain't it, Wing Nut, when you leave well enough and fall head long into that crazy little thing called love? And here I always thought you were the brave one of us. 

Or are you just scared shitless of showing your heart off on your sleeve? 

Haha. Betcha didn't see that one coming. Yeah, Wing Nut, I can be a sensitive, clued-in guy when I wanna be. Sometimes I even say "excuse me" when I let one fly, too. Anyway, you're just the same. You put up this whole "ohh ain't I a tough, silent type" attitude, but deep down you're a friggin' marshmallow and you know it! And guess what? Hell, I'd never say this out loud 'cause I got a reputation to keep and all, but it don't hurt sometimes to *be* a friggin' marshmallow on the outside, too. Chicks dig that sensitivity crap in guys. And I just *know* 'Lena'd dig it in you. She doesn't want a task master or a daddy and she sure as hell doesn't want Tseng. Not really, anyway. She just wants someone to laugh at her dumb jokes and treat her good. Same as anyone wants, really.

So what's it gonna be, Wing Nut? You gonna just sit around and let 'Lena bust her heart over some guy who ain't worthy or are you gonna leave well enough for good this time and actually take a chance?

Seriously, man. I love you guys and I want you to be happy. Oh yah. And just to show you that I really am a selfish, nutty prick, I'm only sayin' that mushy stuff 'cause I wanna pour syrup and shit all over your car at the wedding. HAHA! It'll take you a week to get it off and, god willing, you'll never find those Chocobo eggs in the glove compartment!

Trust me. You'll thank me for everything later.

Wing Nut.


	3. Elena: Not Even Second Best

Not Even Second Best

A FFVII Fan Fic

By 

Lady Aoi

Summary: Elena's side of the whole Tseng/Elena/Rude triangle.

Pairings: Vaguely Tseng/Elena and Rude/Elena

Rating: PG for language, angst

Genre: Romance/Angst

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Square Soft does. And Square Soft probably takes better care of them than I would. I mean, let's be honest. If I owned these characters, Rude and Elena would have eloped long ago, Reno would be giving us a play-by-play description of the honey moon, and Tseng would still be sitting in the Temple of the Ancients. Okay, that really made sense…

Lady Aoi's Notes: It seems this is a little series of vignettes now… go figure.

~*~

            I guess I'm really the last person in the world who should complain. I mean, when it all comes down to it, I'm pretty lucky. And I wasn't always that lucky. You should know. When I was a kid, I barely had enough to eat, and I the minute I walked through my front door I knew I sure as hell wasn't safe. Now, things are better.  I've got a good job, and friends who like me… or who I *think* like me. Well, sometimes. I dunno.

            There I go again. Getting all muddled. But I can't help it. Especially when you're around, Rude. Or should I say Rodger. You don't like people knowing your real name, but I know it. I know a lot about you that'd surprise you. Like the fact that you practice hatha yoga every morning. And that you paint seascapes. Stormy seascapes. Calm seascapes. Seascapes at night. Wow, Rude. I could lose myself in your seascapes. Or in your eyes… if you showed them anymore. From what I remember when we were little, they were a lot like the sea. Light green when you were angry, grey when you were calm… but… it's funny, Rude. Whenever we were just sitting there in the playground together eating food we stoled or… or just sitting there quietly… well, they always looked blue. Okay, I only saw the sea for real this year, but you remember that add for Costa del Sol we found in the dumpster that one time? Yeah. Your eyes looked just like the sky in the picture. Blue and calm and so… just so…

            Ugh. That's pretty corny, huh? You probably think most of me's pretty corny. I mean, when I crack a joke or do my impersonation of Professor Hojo, you always look at me and give me this little smirk. But not a good, happy smirk. A smirk like you feel sorry for me. And maybe you do. God knows it isn't easy being a Turk, and god knows I do a whole lot wrong. Like in that mine… I really didn't mean to say we were going to Junon! Honest! I just… ahhhghh. I was just so happy to be on my the first day of my first mission ever… and with YOU, no less that I – I just screwed it all up. And when I did, and when Tseng was bawling me out in front of those AVALANCHE people… I saw you shake your head. Like I was a bad puppy that had to be hit with a newspaper for going on the rug again. And I was… I was so ashamed… 

            And it just got worse from then on out. Tseng and Reno don't like me. I know they don't. Tseng says I talk to much and Reno… he thinks I'm a wimp and that's probably the truth. I mean… I only got this job because he got hurt, right? Not because I'm a good fighter or anything… and that's probably what you like in a girl, huh? Someone that's tough and fights good and looks pretty while doing so. Someone with grace and dignity.

            Someone like Tifa Lockheart.

            Yeah. I heard the whole thing. How could I not? You know how Reno gets when he's teasing. He gets this… twinge to his voice. Like he knows exactly which of your buttons to push to make you come unglued. Thing is, he's also really loud when he's teasing. Like loud enough that you can hear him even if you're all the way down the path writing your mission report. 'Cause that's where I was when I heard him start in on you. So I stood up thinking, oh great. There goes Reno trying to piss Rude off again. And it bugged me, because he's always going at you like that and you...you're just such a good person that you just stand there and take it. God damn it! He's supposed to be your new best friend! Urrgh! It just annoys me. And it really bugged me that day. I mean, I was already in a bad mood. I'd put up with Reno bitching at me all morning, and now he was bothering the guy that I –

Ahem.

 So, I got up and started walking over to tell that idiot to leave you the hell alone when I heard him say…

"So, who do you like?"

I just… I just froze right there. No, really. It was like the whole world had come crashing to a halt and all I could hear was my hear pounding in my ears. Buh-BOOM. Buh-BOOM. Like in an old cheesy movie. And you were so… so thoughtful about it. Like your answer would determine the fate of the world or something. You stood there, licked your lips slightly, looked down and said:

"……..Tifa."

…. Tifa.

Hahaha. I guess the fate of the world really did rest on that answer, huh? Because my world sure came crashing down when you said that. It was… just like somebody'd ripped out my heart, lungs and guts and shoved them into a meat grinder. I really thought I was gonna puke right there. And then fall over and die. But guess what? The shit hadn't really hit the fan yet.

Because then that stupid bastard Reno said something like "Oh no… but you and Elena…" Heh. And it was such a good acting job that I almost believed him. Almost. Yeah, I know what he was up to because I'm smarter than that. Way smarter. He saw me standing a few yards off and he was just trying to drive it right on home to me. Drive what home? Well, basically that I suck and that no one in their right mind would like me. 

And I guess you think so, too. Because then you said no, I don't like Elena. Elena likes Tseng.

Rude… god damn it… you stupid son-of-a-bitch…. 

You guys may not think it, but I'm a fighter, okay? I did *not* survive fourteen years of being tortured by my dad, poverty and starvation to be anyone's cheep entertainment. Not Reno's and not even yours, Rodger. I – I thought we were friends… I mean I really thought… okay, so you go off and join the Shinra military and get promoted to Turk in a few years, you're so good. That's great. And when you get promoted, you make new friends. And you forget about your best friend since you were a kid and replace her with someone like Reno. Okay, so you have shitty taste, but that's still fine. I can live with that. People change, shit happens, life goes on, right? But I at least thought we could still be friends. I dunno. Maybe I'm naive like that. Because I even thought we could maybe…

It was bad enough that Reno was standing there making fun of me. But did you have to join on in? And say someone like Tseng of all people. Tseng? Tseng?!? Okay, okay. I admit it. He's handsome. Downright pretty. And he's suave and mature like someone you might find in a spy movie. And yes, I have had my fantasies about him. But really… Tseng?! Rude, get this through your head. Tseng's a fantasy man. He's like the guy in high school who had the cool car and was quarter back for the football team and always had enough girls around him that he never noticed you. I wish he'd be my friend, and maybe some nights when I'm really lonely I've even fantasized about screwing him. But that's *it*. And it's… to say that I like Tseng when all I'm doing is trying to do good work and make him write good things about me in his mission logs… that's just so… so *rude* of you, Rude!

And when you said that, I admit it. I got mad. I got so mad that I barely even noticed those AVALANCHE people sneaking up on you guys. But when I saw them, I just didn't care. I said hell with it. Reno, Tseng and now even you kept going on and on about how unprofessional and stupid I was. So, hey, I thought. Why not live up to my reputation.

So I turned to that Strife guy and said that you and Reno were terrible and always went on and on about who you liked. And that *Tseng* wasn't like that at all. Yeah. You heard me. He's not like you at all. Either of you. He snaps at me, but at least he's never petty and mean. And at least he never tries to make me the butt of some really sick practical joke when all I'm doing is trying to do my best as a Turk. So yeah. I told them that I liked Tseng, too. And that's how I've been acting this entire mission. Like I like Tseng. And if you and Reno don't like that, then you can both … both….ohhhhh. You can both EAT SHIT AND DIE!

….

….

Oh shit….

Oh shit….

Oh god, I'm sorry, Rude. That was mean… but you made me mad, and you were mean, too. And I'm really upset with you right now. I guess I should just get over the whole joke thing, or try to. I mean, Reno's just like that. And I guess sometimes he just suckers you into being like that, too….

But I'm not gonna forgive you for awhile. Because you're better than that. Or at least you were once upon a time… once upon a time. Heh. That's funny. Sometimes I used to think you were my knight… that maybe you'd save me or something. That maybe you'd love me and be with me and suddenly… poof. My shitty life wouldn't seem so shitty and pointless and lonely anymore because, hey, you'd be there, right? Just like you were when we were kids… only this time maybe we'd have… I dunno. Like a life together. And a house. And maybe some kids… because I really want to have kids… I dunno. Maybe it's just to prove that I can be a better parent than my dad was…

 You know what? Maybe I should like Tseng. Maybe I should really go after him. Maybe he's more than just some hunky dreamboat… maybe he really is the right guy for me. I could see him wanting to settle down with someone. And not wanting to jerk that someone around, either.

But Rude, I really think that you're the one, okay? That you and I were…

I dunno. I just dunno anymore.

Well, whatever. Even if it's written in the stars or something, that doesn't mean you'll see it. You can't see the night sky through sunglasses, you know. And you always wear them… I dunno. Maybe you've forgotten how to see everything. 

So, fine. I guess that's how it is. I think that Tifa girl likes that Strife guy but who knows? I have a terrible track record in that department, so I wouldn't trust me. I hope she's everything you hope she is, Rude. And that you're seeing her clearly. I hope, if she does end up with you, that you take your glasses off and show her your eyes sometimes. And your seascapes. And I hope the kids are just as handsome as you. 

They say you can't help loving the people that you love. I guess you also can't help being not even second best sometimes. But you can help not being a punching bag or a wimp. And I'm not gonna be either anymore.

Just….

Just don't break her heart this time, okay?


	4. Tseng: Is Everybody Here on Drugs?

Is Everybody Here on Drugs?

A FFVII Fan Fiction

By

Lady Aoi

Summary: Tseng's side of the whole Turkish love triangle.

Rating: PG for adult situations

Pairings: Vaguely Elena/Rude, Scarlet/Tseng and Aeris/Tseng

Disclaimer: Once again, for those who missed it the other 500 times I wrote it, Tseng, Elena, Rude, Reno, the cactars, the tonberries, the moon, oasis bars, the Beatles, and the American Psychiatric Association do not belong to me. Square Soft owns the Turks, the cactars and tonberries. God (I guess) owns the moon. I don't know who owns the rest, but they're making more money than my college student ass ever will.

Lady Aoi's Notes: And then there was Tseng's pov. And then there was the end. And there was much rejoicing. Yay. Oh yeah. The fic's title comes from the Catatonia song of the same name. I thought it would be amusing.

~*~

~Nakahara Tseng: Personal Log 10/09/-- ~ 

Sometimes, I really do wish I'd followed my father's advice and gone into the Wutai tourism business. Would I be making more money than I am now? Doubtful. Would I have fewer problems and fewer headaches? Possibly. Would I have to deal with comparatively easy (and certainly far more normal) problems than I am currently wrestling with? 

….

….

Absolutely.

It goes without saying that the job of a Turk (and the job of a Turk leader) is not for the faint of heart. In the twelve years I have worn the blue uniform I have handled more then my share of unusual… 'problems'. Aside from assassinations, spying and, yes, racketeering, I have had to contend with rabid chocobos, insane scientists, lecherous women and a Space Department chair with an unfortunate addiction to loco weed. And I must say, talking Palmer down from the rafters (literally, sometimes) is certainly a far simpler problem then the one I'm facing now.

Two of my Turks aren't behaving… well…like Turks for lack of a better word.

Perhaps it's my fault. After all, I did let Larson lead the Gongaga mission, so lord knows what kind of mischief he managed to stir up between himself, Marshall and Rude along the way. Reno Larson…I'll never understand why Heidegger promoted him to Turk First Class in the first place. The man may be intelligent, but he certainly chooses not to show it on the worst possible occasions. Taunting AVALANCHE during the destruction of Sector Seven's pillar! Only a miracle kept the debris from hitting the helicopter on our way out. Yes. Larson is a drunkard and a milos gloriosis if ever one existed. Unfortunately, he is also (inexplicably) my second-in-command. Another whim of Heidegger's perhaps? I cannot say. I can say, however, that as my second-in-command, he is responsible for leading missions when I am unable to see to the matter. And Scarlet's orders on 9/28 made me just that; unable of following my men into the field. I was occupied with Scarlet at the time… and yes, I do mean occupied in more than one way.

I only hope Heidegger doesn't find out Scarlet's… ulterior motive for asking me to accompany her to the Gongaga reactor instead of Larson, Rude or Marshall. While Scarlet is correct in asserting that she asked me to accompany her because of my status as the oldest and most experienced Turk in the company… that's just the problem. That is also her ulterior motive. We have been having an affair for the last seven months. And so far, I am confident Heidegger has not discovered his… fiance's philandering. 

At least I hope he has not.

I pray he has not.

I fear that he has.

Personal note: (as this log seems to have crossed into the realm of the personal quite some time ago). I do wish Scarlet would stop reminding me of the fact that Heidegger is, indeed, my boss. If he discovers anything, his status as my former employer will be the least of my worries. But it is a precarious situation. I refuse to sleep with Scarlet, she sees to it that Heidegger fires me. I sleep with her and…hope Heidegger really is as "stupid" as she seems to think he is. At least in emotional matters. It is a complex situation and one that, I must confess, has been distracting me from my work as of late.

Additionally, it is also making me feel rather… there are no words for how I feel. Sexually harassed? Yes. Humiliated? Yes. Unfaithful?

In more ways than one I feel unfaithful.

I am sleeping with another man's fiancé… and I am being most… unfair to the woman I truly love.

Aeris Gainsborough…

I wonder if she would be able to forgive me for this. 

I wonder if she would be able to forgive me for being incapable of doing even a decent job as of late.

That's the entire problem. I must be so distracted with Scarlet's demands and my own impending sense of doom (Heidegger…Heidegger…) that I've been unable to see the true root of Rude and Marshall's problems. I know only that the two seemed healthy and happy enough before the Gongaga mission. In fact, they seemed to work so well together I was considering turning the rest of Elena's training over to Rude himself. After all, she was promoted to the position without some necessary instruction. And regardless of what Heidegger contends, Turks and SOLDIERs second class are trained quite differently from one another. Thus, Marshall can not have been expected to adapt easily to her new job. But I digress. They seemed to be working well together until a week ago. Now, Marshall rarely speaks to Rude. And for his part, Rude seems… uncomfortable around Marshall. Highly uncomfortable. He does not talk to her (he rarely talks to anyone, however), and he literally goes out of his way to keep a low profile around her. He no longer sits next to her in bars, and if she happens to enter the room unannounced, he becomes visibly upset and leaves at the first opportunity.

Yes, there can be no doubt about it. Something unpleasant happened between the pair at Gongaga, or within the time frame of that mission. And I cannot let this unpleasantness continue. It is not only effecting Rude and Marshall's work. It is also effecting the operation of the Turks as a unit. For the old maxim is true: a chain is only as strong as its weakest link. And as of right now, Rude and Marshall are the Turks' weakest links. If their behavior continues to deteriorate, I fear our operations against AVALANCHE will be severely hindered, if not defanged entirely. This cannot happen.

I really must finish this entry. Larson and I are meeting in twenty minutes to go over his own report of the Gongaga mission. One that, sadly, I have not had the opportunity to read previously. Let us attribute my lack of attention to Scarlet, who found a very interesting and unproductive way for me to spend my morning.

No matter how bad the situation between Rude and Marshall has become, however, Larson and I must straighten it out or replace them immediately. Too much is at stake right now to do otherwise.

Hm. It seems Larson is early. And so I will finish this entry with a stray thought. 

Could Rude and Marshall's recent problems be reasonably attributed to an attraction between them?

…

….

Yes. It is a foolish idea.

I am certain Larson will agree.

But I must wonder, sometimes, if everyone in this company, save for myself, is currently smoking Palmer's loco weed in unusually large quantities.


End file.
